For Coffee
by Maaya
Summary: Edward is not a telephone person, and Roy is not sure if he should be surprised. Written because some things are essentially 'home'.


Three Roy/Ed coffee moments. PG. Yaoi. Sap. Pretty much alternate timeline-y. (Thanks to that, not very spoiler-y.)

**For Coffee**  
by Maaya

**-one-**

Edward is not a telephone person, and Roy is not sure if he should be surprised. Edward is really bad at picking up hints and understanding moods, even when he is talking with people face-to-face. There isn't really a difference if one thinks of it that way. Over the phone, Edward becomes awkward and sounds younger. One would think that he would sound older over the phone due to the absence of the visual cues of his short stature and young appearance.

But Edward doesn't. He is hesitant, more than happy to let the person on the other side of the line take the initiative. It makes Roy wonder how Edward kept in touch with family and friends back in Riesensburg until he comes to the conclusion that Edward probably didn't, back then. Either because he would rather move forward than backwards or because he can't speak freely to a person he can't see. Now, he is probably forced to call, or he would go months without talking to his brother.

Phone-sex is definitely out of the question, Roy realizes amusedly and doesn't really mind. He doesn't admit it, but, in a way, he likes this quiet, thoughtful Edward. At the age of thirty-five, Roy has realized that very few people always act the same, or are the same on the inside as they are on the outside; he has come to appreciate all the shapes of a person. Even the less pleasant ones because the less pleasant ones also make people more human.

Roy knows that the outside is the front for other people to see. It is a true part of a human, but it is not the complete picture.

"Where are you now?" he asks and nurses a cup of coffee with his hands. The cup is really too hot to hold, but there isn't a table by the bed and the handle is too small, so he scalds the back of his fingers. The receiver is balanced between his ear and shoulder.

Edward was supposed to go to New Falm, but Roy knows better than to think he's there. The younger man has a tendency to get side-tracked, perhaps by hearing a rumour he wants to check, perhaps by realizing he hasn't visited some town's library. Whatever happens, it is almost guaranteed he will end up somewhere other than where he first planned. He never gets to the original goal in time. Without Alphonse -- who isn't really fond of travelling happily home in Riesensburg and enjoying the time he lost when only his soul had resided in this world -- Edward doesn't have anyone to remind him what he is supposed to do.

The younger man's answer is, because of that, not very surprising.

"Driftswell," Edward says and is quiet for a while before he ventures, "A guy on the train told me there is an alchemist here with pretty interesting theories on the use of alchemy in Amestris, compared to legends in Creta."

"Were they interesting?"

"Um. He was dead."

Roy breathes a mark of interrogation into the receiver. He keeps quiet because if he speaks at the same time as Edward, the younger man will be become unsure and clam up.

"Two days ago," Edward continues. "Phthisis."

"Bad luck."

Knowing that Edward doesn't want to be soothed or listen to some logical words about how death happens, Roy doesn't offer any, even though he has a feeling the younger man is a little upset at the death. Perhaps not upset, only saddened. Roy wonders if the late alchemist had had a family, if he had been young.

"Mm."

He gets the feeling that the conversation will end soon, but he isn't ready to be left alone for the evening yet, so he offers some more subjects that will need discussing and then finally takes his first sip of the coffee. He burns his tongue and mutters a curse.

"What is it?"

Edward doesn't sound very worried. It makes Roy roll his eyes and wonder just _what_ would squeeze sympathy out of the young man. He considers asking, but closes his mouth on it. He is probably better off not knowing. And Roy doesn't have to offer an explanation for his curse, either, because Edward is a smart boy. Well, young man, really, because he has matured a bit.

"You're drinking coffee, aren't you?" Edward asks suspiciously, with a hint of longing.

Smirking into the receiver, Roy takes another, careful sip. It burns again. Ouch. "Jealous?"

"Remembering your coffee-making skills...no."

"Is coffee not available where you are, Edward?" makes sure his tone shows his amusement. Whenever Edward warms up a little on the phone, it is almost as interesting as talking with him face-to-face. Almost. Nothing beats Edward's _'who the hell are you calling short'_ expression in person, though.

They are quiet for a while. Roy can hear the younger man breathe in his ear, but it doesn't feel right without the warmth and smell. He doesn't want to say goodbye because he's got a lonely evening ahead of him, and it is winter, dark despite the relatively early hour. While Roy personally doesn't share Edward's loathing for his home-made coffee, it is not as good as the sort Hawkeye makes at the office.

"We'll talk later," Roy says because he knows that Edward doesn't like to finish conversations over the phone.

"Yeah. See you." Edward hangs up before Roy has a chance to reply or delay.

The silence becomes depressingly heavy in the room, not even the wall clock makes a sound because Roy forgot to change the battery.

He sighs and takes another cautious sip of his coffee. This time, he doesn't burn his tongue.

----

**-two-**

Roy Mustang doesn't ever wait at the station when Edward is due to arrive. It was an unconscious choice at first. He never found it necessary and Edward didn't expect him to. Roy doesn't remember the exact moment when he realized he didn't wait to greet his lover upon arrival, but with the realization came the urge to do it.

Still, he has yet to.

He asks himself, sometimes, how Edward would react if he saw Roy on the platform, hands in pockets, smile slightly sheepish. Perhaps Edward would be happy, but, more likely, offended. Perhaps he would be unsure, wondering if their relationship had risen to another, unspoken level he isn't ready for yet.

But at least, Roy has the sense to make coffee when he knows Edward will soon arrive. He always arrives on foot, because the depot is a stone's throw away from Roy's home, and newly awake because he is used to sleeping on trains.

There, at the kitchen table, Roy waits until he hears the door open and boots being toed off, kicked into a corner. The curse when Edward hits his elbow on the doorframe is tradition.

"Don't tell me _you_ made that coffee," Edward grumbles, rubbing his elbow. That is also tradition, both the elbow-rubbing and the harsh words.

"You know you'll drink it anyway." Roy offers a cup as a peace offering. One lump of sugar has melted in it. Nothing else.

"Whatever." Edward takes the cup and swallows loudly. He pauses, takes a breath and licks his lips thoughtfully. Reluctantly. "Thank you."

"Pleasure."

They are quiet until Edward finishes his cup, quickly. "I don't see how you can fail every time you make it. I mean, you even follow the _recipe_."

"Doesn't everyone?" Roy raises an eyebrow, swallowing the last of his own cup.

"S'not exactly the type of beverage one _needs_ a recipe to make. At least not normal people."

Taking and rinsing out the two empty cups, Roy takes the part about _'not normal people'_ as a compliment. He smirks. "Always knew I was somewhat extraordinary."

Edward pushes his hair back behind his ears and makes a move to go upstairs. He pauses momentarily to glance over at Roy. "Your ego is growing. Insufferable."

The snide comment doesn't receive an answer. Roy is still preoccupied with washing the dishes. He doesn't own many cups and would prefer not to get brown coffee stains in those he does have. It is not until he can hear Edward open the door to the bathroom upstairs he addresses the young man again.

"You could at least let me know how long you're staying," Roy calls.

There is a pause. Then. "I'll go to Riesensburg tomorrow."

"Taking a leave, are we?"

The snort is barely audible at that distance. "You've never given _me_ vacation time."

His voice is getting impatient. Roy wonders amusedly if Edward is standing naked by the bathroom door, waiting to take a shower. "Not vacation time. Leave."

"Whatever."

Roy puts the dishes away in the rack with a philosophical shrug. "I'll see how much I can give you."

The bathroom door is slammed closed. Roy imagines there's a quiet _'thank you'_ hidden in the noise.

----

**-three-**

He wonders uncomfortably how Edward had talked him into coming. Edward should have understood that he didn't want to meet the Rockbell girl, didn't want to be in an unfamiliar home as the intruder. Oh. And he had also killed the host's parents. Not nice.

Well, Roy does know that Edward understands his feelings, if only a little. They've been talking about the subject over and over. Edward has explained so many times, _Winry understands, she has accepted the fact_, that he doesn't have to say the words anymore, merely glance impatiently over at his thick-headed lover.

Roy doesn't like feeling uncomfortable. He supposes he shouldn't feel that way, though, because Winry and Alphonse are sweet people who do everything to make him feel at home.

It startled him, the first time Edward and Winry started a loud fight over how Edward had destroyed so many of her fantastic automail creations. Edward, he could understand, but seeing Winry acting so bossy and being so loud...it surprised him a bit.

The way Alphonse rolled his eyes and shared an indulgent smile with Roy, made it apparent those sudden arguments weren't rare.

Of course, it also turned out that Winry Rockbell makes excellent coffee. (Her only culinary skill, Edward would mutter, and then nurse his sore forehead where the screwdriver hit.)

Roy gives Winry his appreciation, ignores the smug look on Edward's face.

"This is _real_ coffee. Not the slosh _you_ make all the time," Edward tells him, and while Roy ignores the comment, Winry half-frowns at the implied praise.

"How come you never tell me that to my face," she mutters. Alphonse snickers and shakes his head.

"My brother only gives praise when he wants to insult someone else."

"I do not!" Edward glares at their amused faces, but he is among friends and lovers, he can't keep sulking for too long. "Really, though. Winry, you should teach this idiot" he waves towards Roy, "how to make coffee."

"Edward, I don't need advice," Roy protests.

But one way or another, he still ends up being shown how Winry Rockbell makes her infamous coffee. It's nothing special, no secret ingredients or additions, only years of habit. Perhaps the special atmosphere in Riesensburg plays a part, too, or the fact that she smiles and comfortably jokes with her childhood friends and one of their lovers when she makes it.

By the time Roy says goodnight and goes to bed, he has decided that he probably isn't coffee-making material. But, as he tells Edward, perhaps they should go to Riesensburg more often.

After all, who would want to miss out on such delicious coffee?

----

**end**

Thank you for reading. C&C is loved.


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